Archive of Our Own

In. Out.

In. Out.

Clarke turned to face the mirror above the sink, half covered in graffiti and a layer of grime from having not been washed recently, and took herself in. Hair slightly frizzy, dark circles making their appearance known beneath her eyes, but aside from that, under the dim lighting of the bar’s bathroom, she looked okay. Plausible enough for a night out, at least by some measure.

She reminded herself to breathe.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Had it not been for Raven and Monty’s insistence, she would have been at home basking in the comfort of her couch and some cheesy film she’d probably already seen a dozen times on Netflix. That’s where she would have preferred to be, if she were being honest.

If only she had she been able to find a plausible excuse that didn’t involve admitting defeat and coming clean about her real reasons.

It wasn’t that she was avoiding anyone, not really - not anyone aside from Bellamy, anyway, but for that she had good reason. Excellent reasoning, in her opinion. Or, perhaps, she was simply being childish about the whole ordeal.

Even so, she still found herself missing him, longing to be in the comfort of his- Stop that, Clarke, a voice at the back of her mind scolded her as if she were a child. He isn’t yours to want.

She ran a hand down her face before shouldering her bag and, upon taking a final breath, shoving open the door, an audible creak sounding behind her. A combination of smoke and artificial fog filled her vision, the smell hitting her soon after. Steps slow in trying to prolong the time before she returned, she rounded the corner, her table coming into view through the gaps in the crowd.

It was the first time she’d been out in months, never able to find the energy on her days off, but this time, the majority of her usual coworkers were off as well. Seeing as it was a rarity, some of them proclaimed that it would be a bad omen not to go out for a celebration of sorts.

Sighing, she moved through the seemingly never ending sea of people, uttering an, “Excuse me,” when necessary.

“Griffin,” Jasper shouted over the music as she came near. “We need you to settle something.”

Of course, as her luck would have it, the seat she’d previously been occupying had been taken in the group’s muddling around, leaving the only open seat in the booth next to Bellamy. He looked up, curls long enough they nearly obscured his eyes, and brooded momentarily before his lips twisted into a smile upon seeing her.

She tried to ignore how it made her feel, returning it as he moved over slightly, patting the empty spot beside him.

“Thought you’d run off,” he whispered in her ear, almost enough to make her shiver on its own.

“Nope,” she croaked, clearing her throat before offering him a tight smile. “Just hid out in the bathroom for a few, you know me.” Turning back to Jasper, she raised her voice to be heard over the commotion around them, “What is it this time?” She resisted the urge to groan at the thought of some of the previous arguments she’d had to settle, scooting slightly closer to Bellamy despite her best judgement. His arm came to rest on the wood of the booth behind her, and she couldn’t help but lean in slightly at his warmth, the smell of his cologne enveloping her.

Not yours to want, the voice nagged her again, as if she hadn’t already thought it enough times.

“Best band from the ‘80s. Monty wanted no part in it, but Raven says Jackson 5, Miller says the Temptations, Harper says Queen, and Bellamy says Earth, Wind-”

“Easy,” she cut him off. “Earth, Wind and Fire, no argument.”  

Bellamy squeezed her bare shoulder in response, likely having known she would agree with him in the first place. She froze slightly at the contact, reminded of too many nights alone with him in whichever of the station’s dorm rooms they could find unoccupied.

Against her best judgement, she thought back to the way his hands would follow a trail each time as they untangled from her hair to slide down to the sides of her breasts, continuing to her ass as he mouthed at the side of her neck, her jaw, her shoulder.

“Don’t leave any marks,” she’d whimpered as his tongue followed his lips, taking its turn to trace over her skin. The faucet of the sink behind her dug uncomfortably into her back, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind.

He stopped his ministrations, thumbs still outlining circles against the sides of her thighs. Voice rough against her collarbone, as if they weren’t in the middle of a public restroom, “What, you afraid of everyone finding out?”

“No.” She used the hand tangled within his hair to pull him to eye level, leaning forward to close the small distance before kissing him briefly. “You know I don’t care about people knowing, I just-”

“Clarke.” He mouthed at the spot of skin behind her ear, nuzzling her neck slightly. Pulling back so he could see her again, he smiled, one that was nearly enough to stop her heart. “I was just joking, I know you don’t. Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed, barely having enough time to do so before he was pulling her into him again, hands wasting no time in slipping under the hem of her skirt.

They’d still never told anybody.

The most she’d spoken of it had been with Raven, and even then, she hadn’t stated that Bellamy, specifically, was the one who had taken her virginity.

That he was the one she had been sleeping with for largest part of a year before they decided it was too much, a conflict of interest considering the fact that they worked so closely together.

In that year, between their time at work and all of the nights they’d spent together, both innocently and not so innocently, she’d found herself falling for him. Not gradually, no, not necessarily, but the sort of falling where one day he was Bellamy - her best friend, the guy she was sleeping with - and then the next day she looked at him, and suddenly he was Bellamy - her best friend, the person she was in love with.

Of course, around that time was when he had told her they should end things, and with tears burning at the back of her eyes, heart aching, she’d agreed; only because it was what he had wanted.

A collective protest sounded from the others, breaking her away from her thoughts.

“Come on, she’s only saying that because it’s what Bellamy said,” Monty scoffed.

Raven leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a smirk and a sideways glance thrown in Clarke’s direction. “That’s what we get for thinking she’d agree with anyone else. He’s her favorite.”

“You guys are ridiculous.” But they were also right. Clarke took a drink from her glass, wishing she had been able to relish in the slight burn of liquor as it made its way down her throat. Unfortunately, she hadn’t wanted to drink any, not wanting a hangover the next day. She wished she had, wished that she she didn’t have to feel how she did having Bellamy so close. “Bellamy and I just have good taste in music,” she smirked, leaning away from him, albeit unnoticeable to anyone else. She’d already gotten close enough, more so than she’d intended to.

Both tonight and in general.

She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke again. “Exactly,” he agreed. “And now that we’ve settled it, can you all do me a favor and talk about something else?”

They did, begrudgingly, of course, moving into mixed conversation of the firehouse, the fact that a new captain would soon be elected, and playful taunting at Miller’s expense over it being his turn to be stuck on kitchen duty the following day. Clarke tried to pay attention, to interject herself into the conversation when necessary, but found her attention held captive by the way Bellamy was constantly checking his phone, as if he were waiting for something.

His leg shook up and down, close enough to cause hers to do so, too, and he turned to her a few moments after tucking his phone away, smirking slightly.

He spoke low enough only she would hear, close enough he could have whispered and still be heard over the sounds around them. “What do you say about you and I ditching these guys to go play pool?”

She wanted to say yes, to not think about it, but quickly found her mind filled with reasons as to why she shouldn’t.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You know I’m not very good at it, and plus, I probably need to head home soon. We all do, really.”

He narrowed his eyes at her reasoning before shaking his head, smile growing. “Does it hurt you to have fun every once in a while?”

“Hey.” She pouted playfully in response. “I can be fun, Bellamy. You know how much fun I am,” she reasoned, not meaning for it to sound the way it had.

He said nothing for a few seconds, then,  “I know you are, Clarke… If you don’t want to play, though, we don’t have to.”

“I mean, we can if you-”

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice interrupted her, Echo appearing at the head of the table looking somewhat frazzled. “Traffic was bad,” she explained.

Clarke waved weakly along with the others’ greetings, Bellamy telling her, “Don’t worry about it. We were just getting started, anyway.”

“Hey,” he turned to her. “Would you mind scooting down some so she can sit?” She merely shook her head in response, doing as asked while trying to ignore the site of him kissing his girlfriend briefly in greeting, her taking the small amount of space on his other side.

Girlfriend. He had a girlfriend.

She knew that, had known since their first date, and yet she still couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that went through her at the sight of them. Willing her eyes not to fill with tears at the thought of all the times she had been the one to feel his kiss, though not as anything more than a friend, she cleared her throat before stating loud enough for the others to hear, “It’s probably time for me to go.” At their complaints, she narrowed her eyes. “I have a shift tomorrow. So do all of you, for the record.”

“What happened to being fun?” Bellamy joked, and she looked at her feet to avoid having to look at him otherwise.

Shrugging, “I’m still fun. I just…don’t feel like being grumpy tomorrow.” She pulled her coat on, not bothering to zip it before picking up her bag. “Night, you guys. Don’t be coming to me tomorrow when you’re dead on your feet because you stayed out way too late.”

“Wait. Clarke,” Bellamy called as she started to walk away. “Let one of us walk you out to your car, at least.”

“It’s fine, I parked right out front. I’ll text you,” she promised, offering him a gentle smile before heading towards the exit.

She turned to look at the table moments later as she pulled the front door open, her breath catching at the way Bellamy had pulled Echo into him, the way he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

It only became easier to breathe once she had turned away, stepping out into the cool air of the night, keys gripped tightly in hand.

I’m okay, she texted Bellamy once she’d gotten into her car, seat belt buckled.

Okay, he’d replied moments later. Be safe.

She didn’t send anything back in response.

“-And I won’t hesitate to have your damn mouth stitched shut,” she heard upon walking into the common room of the firehouse the next day.

“Sounds like you’re in a good mood this afternoon.” Clarke nudged Raven’s shoulder with hers as she took the seat on the couch beside her.

“Oh, totally, Griffin,” Raven replied, voice contradicting her words. “I feel like a whole gang of sunshine and rainbows threw up on me.”

Murphy stood from where he had been sitting in one of the recliners. “Don’t let her fool you, she’s being a bi-”

“Don’t even think about saying it,” Raven threatened. Clarke stifled a laugh.

“Yeah, whatever, Reyes,” he voiced from the hallway.

“I think I should’ve listened to you last night,” Raven admitted, leaning her face against Clarke’s shoulder. “I’m tired.”

“I told you not to come whining to me.”

“Can’t you make an exception?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “Go take a nap while you have the time,” she advised, lightly patting the top of the girl’s hair.

Raven lifted her head in response, scrutinizing her. “You’re just full of great ideas, aren’t you?”

“Apparently.”

Clarke watched as she stayed still for a moment before standing, walking sluggishly towards the other side of the room where the entrance to the hallway was.

“Don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency, I’m taking a nap,” she heard Raven mutter, followed by a low laugh.

“Griffin,” she stilled at the sound of Bellamy’s voice a few seconds later. Even more so at the sight of him in the doorway clad in a navy blue dress shirt, Arkadia insignia on the right side of the chest, tucked into a pair of slacks. She’d seen him in various states of undress over the years, completely naked more times than she could count - and yet, the sight of him in uniform was what always got to her, almost to the point she was beginning to think she’d never get used to it.

And she hated that she couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard she’d tried to ignore him in general. Which, of course, hadn’t been working out too well in the first place.

“You get the right amount of beauty sleep?” He smiled in greeting, walking over to take the seat Raven had previously vacated, albeit slightly closer than the former had sat.

She turned to look at him, not able to help the way she smiled in response. “The perfect amount, actually. That’s why I look so radiant this morning.” She motioned to her face playfully as she spoke, earning a low chuckle from him.

He studied her for a moment before saying, “That’s what I thought.” His voice was far too soft, admirable almost, for her liking.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” She changed the subject, leaning further back into the cushion behind her.

Bellamy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have a meeting with Pike at some point, a call here and there probably. The usual.”

“You hate Pike,” she deadpanned.

“He’s an ass. But... he’s also the boss, so it’s not like I have a say in the matter,” he muttered, looking away.

Before she could stop herself, she took his hand, holding it tightly in both of hers. “My mom says Kane’s pretty bummed about stepping down.” Her mom had been seeing the soon-to-be former captain for nearly a year, and the topic had recently come up during one of their phone calls.

They didn’t see each other in person much, not because of distance (not physical, at least), but due to their schedules never syncing up. She was a paramedic, her mother a doctor at a nearby hospital, both with hectic work hours.

“You know,” she spoke slowly, pausing slightly before deciding to continue. He tilted his head in interest, dark eyes focused intensely on her. “I don’t want to get your hopes up and it not happen or anything, but… you have a pretty good shot at getting captain next, I think.”

Bellamy gave a wry smile in response, shaking his head as he pulled away from her slightly. “You know that’s not true. It’s hard to tell, but it won’t be me.”

“Bell,” the nickname slipped out before she could stop it. “You do so much around here. You know what you’re doing, and you keep everyone in line, make sure everyone’s safe… If anyone here deserves that position, it’s you.” Regardless of what they were, regardless of her feelings towards him - that much was true. He cared so much about, well… everything, which wasn’t a common characteristic among people around there. He was, perhaps, the only person deserving of the position.

He was quiet, picking at the material of the couch beneath them until he looked at her again, obviously trying not to smile. With a lilt of curiosity, excitement to his voice, “You really think so?”

Clarke nodded immediately, squeezing his hand. “I do. You have such a big heart, Bellamy, and it-” She thought to stop herself, but continued despite it. “It shows in what you do here. You deserve it, and they’d be stupid not to see that.”  

“You always know what to say, Clarke.” He squeezed her hand before moving to pull her into his side, muttering a grateful, “Thank you,” against the top of her head. She stilled in response, then wrapped her arm around him briefly before pulling back. He furrowed his brow, and she smiled, hoping to soothe any worries he might have had.

Evidently, it hadn’t worked.

“I, uh, meant to ask last night - are we okay? You’ve been kind of… off lately, when it comes to me, and if I did something, I’d like to be able to fix it. I mean, I know I-”

She interrupted before he could continue any further, blood pounding in her ears as she somehow managed to maintain her smile.

“We’re okay, Bellamy. I promise.”

Skeptical, he asked, “Are you sure? It’s just that-”

“I’m sure.” Then, knowing that simply saying that much wouldn’t be enough, “I’ve been… working through some stuff, and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was taking it out on you,” she lied.

“You know I’m always here for you, though, right? No matter what.” His hand found hers again, squeezing it lightly. She squeezed back, suddenly finding it hard to look at him.

“Yeah, of course.” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she agreed, “No matter what.”
The words pulled on something deep within her, the memory of another time they’d uttered those words to each other. Unlike this, however, that time had been in the comfort of her bed, basked in light from one of the streetlamps outside bleeding into the dark room. Their legs tangled within the sheets as he held her close to him, mapping whatever skin he could reach with gentle presses of his lips.

“We’re good, right?” He’d murmured as he pulled her closer to him, their bodies flush against one another. It was still new - this thing between them. Something they were trying to navigate while maintaining their professional relationship, too.

She huffed, turning over in his arms enough to face him. “We’re good, Bell. I promise.” Her hand moved to brush his hair out of his eyes before she leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth, barely missing his lips. “This thing between us? It’s good, better than good. It’s just taking some time to get used to, and I’ve never-”

His lips met hers in an attempt to quiet her, tongue slowly tracing her top lip before she opened her mouth, letting him in. It was slow, unhurried, but enough to make her toes curl, fingers tangling into his hair.

“I know this is new for you, you don’t have to worry, okay?” He’d murmured once he pulled back, though only far enough to be able to speak, nose still brushing against hers. “But I need you talk to me if anything about this, and I mean anything, is too weird or uncomfortable for you.” She nodded, his hand coming to caress her face. Soft, as if afraid to say it aloud,  “I’m here for you, always. No matter what,” and she knew he wasn’t simply referring to their current situation.

“No matter what,” she repeated, just as soft, her thumb tracing the side of his jaw as she leaned in to kiss him again. He deepened it almost immediately, rolling them over so she was underneath him.

“So,” he murmured against her mouth, smiling slightly, “What do you say about round two?”

She shrugged, leaning in to kiss him again. “I could go for round two.”

Anything he was about to say in response was cut off as the alarm began to blare, signaling dispatch’s need for them. Thankful for the excuse, Clarke jumped from her seat, startling Bellamy further. “Get off your ass, Blake. We have lives to save,” she shouted over her shoulder as she left the room, chancing a glance back at him, now close behind her.

“Shut the hell up and move faster then, Griffin,” he quipped playfully, heading down the hallway in the opposite direction. Then, before he could get too far, he turned, “and be careful.”

“You too, Bellamy.”

“I’ll try my best,” he responded, a quirk of his lips. She knew he was joking, always the first to run head-on into danger if he felt it to be necessary.

“Seriously. Please be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

Monty and Jasper were already in the rig by the time she arrived, gracelessly tugging the seat belt over herself.

“What took you so long?” Monty muttered as he turned the ignition over. Clarke sighed, situating herself against the window. Her eyes caught on Bellamy as he walked by, already in full gear, and she couldn’t help the nagging fear in her stomach, the hope that he would stay out of danger quickly arising. “Clarke?” He asked as they were pulling out onto the main road, her mind clearly elsewhere.

It had been raining for hours, but had grown progressively worse, heavy rain pouring from the darkened clouds above, enough to obscure her view through the windshield of the rig even with the wipers moving at full speed. The rain, loud enough to echo off of the aluminum outside, was accompanied with roars of thunder, flashes of lightning ferocious enough to almost cause her to jump.

“Oh. Sorry, what?”

“What took you so long?” Jasper asked this time as Monty reached over, flicking the switch to turn the sirens on. Clarke shrugged in response, leaning back into her seat.

“I was with Blake in the common room,” she explained, finding it within her to smile with her next words, half-joking, “We ran as soon as we heard the call. You guys are just faster than us, apparently.”

“Well, duh.”

Changing the subject, she turned to Jasper. “What are we looking at when we get there?”

“Apartment complex fire, no casualties yet that we know of,” he informed her, Monty effortlessly continuing for him with, “Look forward to a lot of burns and just as many cases of smoke inhalation, though.” Clarke nodded, flinching slightly at a particularly strong bout of thunder heard over the sirens.

“Do we have enough of the supplies needed to handle that?” She asked, pushing back a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her braid. Monty nodded.

“We checked before we left. If not, we’ll call dispatch to send out another team.”

“Okay, good.” She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, to slow the heavy beating of her heart, still finding herself nervous prior to arriving at the scene nearly every time. She loved her job, loved all of the people she encountered, and yet… the prospect of holding someone else’s life in her hands, being the determining factor in life or death was something she’d never quite gotten over. She wasn’t sure she ever would, but it was something she’d learned to deal with over time.

She spent the rest of the ride silent, listening idly to the conversation going on between Jasper and Monty, though unable to register anything over the commotion of the weather, the sirens… the thoughts stirring within her head.

It wasn’t anything, really, just a bad feeling she couldn’t seem to shake.

Upon arriving to the scene minutes later, the three of them quickly wrenched open their doors, stepping out into the downpour without preamble upon hearing the others pull up behind them.

The scent of smoke filled the air heavily, wind blowing it all around, a cloud somehow shades darker than the one in the sky accompanying the expansive flames sweeping through the building in front of them. It was already enough to have went through the roof, burning several feet higher than even the highest floor of the complex. Clarke’s heart only seemed to speed up at the sight, feeling as though it could drop to her stomach at any moment. She blinked the rain out of her eyes, scouring the group of people gathered outside - many holding their loved ones, others alone yet visibly shaken, in tears - for anyone who may be injured.

“What’s the plan, boss?” She could hear Murphy ask behind her before Bellamy’s voice filtered in over the commotion.

She tried not to let her thoughts linger too much on how well he’d do as an official captain, if chosen.

“We should wait until we can find a clear entry. Miller, Murphy, you mind searching around the back? Raven, Harper, and I can take the front and sides. Report back before doing anything else, we have to be smart about this. You don’t know-”

Miller interrupted with a hand to his shoulder.

“I think we’ve got it, Blake. Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing.”

She caught Bellamy’s eye before he moved to walk towards the building and mouthed a cautious, ‘Be safe,’ in hopes that he would see. He nodded before turning away, seeming to want to say or do something else as he looked at her again, but apparently thought better of it, deciding to follow behind Raven.

“What’s the plan for us?” Monty asked once she had faced them, already mentally running through the list of everything they might need.

She paused. “Check everyone who’s recently come out of the building that seems like they might need it - most life-threatening situations take priority - then get everything ready in case one of the team end up getting injured,” she explained, swallowing hard at the last part of her sentence, preferring to not have to think about it, even as a possibility.

“All we can really do aside from that is wait for disaster to strike, huh?” Jasper laughed as the two of them made their way to address the crowd of people in the grass near the opposite end of the pavement.

Her chest suddenly felt constricted. “Don’t joke about that,” she reprimanded.

It was tumultuous.

Many of the patients she interacted with were obviously shaken up, as expected, tear tracks staining the cheeks of children and parents alike, beloved dogs and cats held close as they watched the fire continue, the weather only seeming to make things worse.

Policeman scouted the area, asking questions when necessary, answering any questions the tenants had to the best of their ability.

She couldn’t help but glance towards where the fire continued to swell as she triaged potential patients, finding that, miraculously, most had escaped the situation unscathed aside from minor scrapes and burns, smoke inhalation.

The rain had soaked uncomfortably through her uniform, her hair, and she found no reason in trying to dry herself now. Somehow, though, it hadn’t dampened the fire any, flames only continuing to climb higher, making her figure they’d have to call for backup at some point.

She’d just finished walking a young couple, no older than her, over to where Jasper and Monty were set up in the rig when she heard it.

“My daughter,” a man pleaded brokenly, obviously in a state of shock. He had thinning red hair, a beard and mustache, and had clearly went unnoticed by Clarke as well as the others beforehand. His eyes never left the complex in front of him, focused, flames large enough Clarke could feel the heat from where she stood even twenty feet back. “My daughter,” he cried again, louder this time, which was enough to snap her into focus.

She took catalog of the skin she could see, but as far as she could tell, he had no injuries.

“Sir.” She delicately placed a hand, trembling either from nerves or the cold from the rain, on his arm once close enough, once sure he wouldn’t lash out at her for doing so.

A crack of thunder, a strike of lightning hit all too close.

Hesitantly, only loud enough he would hear, “What about your daughter?”

Except he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t do anything aside from stare at the flames.

“What’s going on?” Her lips parted in relief upon seeing Bellamy at the man’s other side, suddenly finding that the weight on her chest had been lifted, even if only a small amount.

“I- I’m not sure,” she stuttered. “He keeps saying something about his daughter, but when I asked, he wouldn’t say anything else. I think he’s in shock.”

“Sir.” He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We need to know what’s going on with your daughter or else we can’t help.”

She could hear the flames crackling nearby, and counted as each of the firefighters exited from around the sides of the building, feet meeting the concrete.

Miller. Murphy. Raven. Harper. Bellamy.

The man, slowly but surely, began to lift his hand.

“My daughter,” he repeated again, albeit softer this time.

Time seemed to slow as he pointed at the inferno in front of them, her mouth suddenly going dry as she realized what he meant.

Bellamy nodded, turning to walk away, presumably in a rush to tell the group what was going on. Clarke turned the other way, feet carrying her as quickly as they could to where Monty and Jasper stood.

“There’s a child stuck in the building.” She took a breath, not waiting to see what they would say in response. “We need to be prepared for any number of injuries, burns, smoke inhalation, asphyxiation, just-”

“Clarke, we got it, just calm down.” She flinched slightly at the feeling of Jasper’s hand on her shoulder, not fully paying attention. “Monty, you want to go with her to see what they plan on doing? I’ll stay here just in case.”

She shielded her eyes as they walked, the smoke beginning to burn.

“Hey.” Monty nudged her shoulder with his. “Everything will be okay. Arkadia’s best is on it, right?” She nodded. “They’ll figure it out, they always do.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just- it’s a kid, you know? It makes it harder to stay calm when thinking about it, I guess.” He hummed in agreement, dropping his hand but still lingering nearby.

As they approached the others, out of habit, she began to count them.

It was something she’d done since her first day with the station, more as a way to comfort herself than anything else.

Miller. Harper. Murphy. Raven.

Where was Bellamy?

Dread filled her, encasing her stomach, her lungs to the point where she was worried she might suffocate.

Calm down, Clarke. Recount them.

Her steps gained speed, Monty left to trail behind her cluelessly, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, her focus entirely on finding Bellamy.

Raven. Harper. Murphy. Miller.

She could have been freaking out over nothing, had hoped that was the case, but she couldn’t dampen the dread she felt upon recounting them.

“Clarke, what’s going on?”

“Where the hell is Blake?” She managed as she reached them, voice entirely too shrill, much weaker than she’d intended for it to be.

Her throat felt as though it had been caught in the fire, too.

She watched as they glanced between each other, Raven’s stare lingering far too long on the flames.

When no one said anything, she repeated herself, hardly able to get the words out. “I said, ‘Where the hell is Blake?’”

Raven nodded at Miller, though she couldn’t quite figure out why.

She wasn’t sure whether the sting behind her eyes was from the smoke, the rain, or the emotions clogging her throat, threatening to take her under, and she wasn’t keen on figuring it out as the others remained silent still.

“He was supposed to meet us here,” Miller explained calmly, gaze stuck on the same spot Raven had been focused on earlier, causing her to turn on her heels.

“‘Supposed to’ being the operative phrase,” Murphy deadpanned.

It was impossible to breathe as she took in the sight of Bellamy pulling down his mask, about to enter the building despite all of the risks they had discussed earlier - the risks he had mentioned himself.

She should have known, really, that the bad feeling from before hadn’t been meaningless.

Her words were shrill, deafening even to her own ears, “Bellamy!”

“Blake, get your ass back here!” Miller shouted.

She could hear the others calling his name, desperately trying to get him to hear them.

Except he didn’t. Or, if he did, he had elected to ignore them.

Harper stepped towards her as the others continued trying to get his attention, but she stood frozen. “Clarke, he’ll be okay,” she assured her, but Clarke knew she was merely giving her false hope. She shook her head, face contorting as she felt herself begin to cry.

Pivoting around to face where Bellamy was, the sight was no less painful the second time.

“Clarke, no-” Raven grasped at her arm, but she pulled away.

Her heart ached more and more with each beat as she watched him disappear into the smoke, a pain strong enough it reverberated throughout her entire body.

“Bellamy,” she tried again, louder this time as she broke into a run, unable to question herself, unable to do anything but think about the danger he was in. “Bellamy, no!”

She’d run in and pull him out of there her damn self if that’s what it took.

She had almost cleared half of the distance between them when she felt someone pull her back, arms constricting around her middle.

“Bellamy,” she cried, thrashing against their grip, belatedly realizing it was Monty, although she couldn’t really bring herself to care. Her focus was entirely on him. Desperately, voice foreign even to herself,  “Let me go, someone needs to save him - we need to-”

She shifted her weight backwards, finding it enough to break free, knocking him off balance.

“Griffin,” Miller shouted from behind her.

Clarke ignored his calls, and yet, she hadn’t gotten more than a few steps further before she felt him grab her around the waist, grip much tighter than Monty’s had been as he pulled her down with him before she could realize what was happening.

The force of the concrete against her cheek stung enough to make her wince, and she could taste blood, had probably bitten her tongue in the fall.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but even louder was the deafening sound which came from the fire, the sound of glass falling out of windows with the force of an explosion.

She felt it before she saw it, the force enough to cause her to duck, knowing what was happening as Miller tried to shield her.

Sobs shook her as part of the complex collapsed, flames only growing stronger.

Bellamy was still inside.

“No, no, no,” she muttered brokenly, pain overtaking her as she shoved Miller off. “Bellamy.”

He couldn’t be dead, no… She wouldn’t accept that he was dead.

“No.” She curled in on herself before shakily finding her footing, hair falling into her face as the storm continued around them, blissfully unaware of all that was happening.”Bellamy!” Her hands found their way into her hair. “Bellamy,” she begged, though she wasn’t sure who. “No, he’ll never make it out.”

She felt as though her heart had been forcibly torn from her chest, body aching with grief as desperate shouts left her, although she no longer knew what she was saying.

Bellamy wouldn’t make it out.

Silence, only the pounding within her ears audible.

Her best friend, the man she loved.

A flash of lightning as the flames of the fire continued to burn, waiting to be put out as she remained transfixed on them.

Rage overtook her, either at Bellamy for going into the fire despite knowing how dangerous it was, or at herself for not being able to save him, or the fire; she couldn’t decide.

She’d never be able to tell him how much she loved him, to show him, even if he didn’t feel the same.

A tap on her shoulder.

“Clarke, look.”

It couldn’t be.

Squinting to see through the smoke, a figure appeared, child seeming to be perched against their hip as they moved closer.

She could hear the others speaking in hushed tones behind her if she listened closely enough.

“He’s alive,” she breathed, sagging in relief yet still somehow unable to calm her raging heart, the paralyzing fear that she might be seeing things, that the smoke had gotten to her.

“Yeah.” She vaguely registered Miller’s hand squeeze her shoulder as he repeated her earlier words in agreement, “He’s alive.”

Bellamy was alive.

She wanted to hug him, to tell him how worried she had been, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak as his eyes locked on hers, though only for a moment. His facial expression gave nothing away, stone cold.

A sob broke loose as he walked past, close enough to reach for yet seemingly untouchable.

She was afraid he would slip through her fingers if she tried.

Shaking still, unable to gather herself, she leaned back into Miller, his hand squeezing her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her as she watched Bellamy return the little girl that had been in his arms to her father.

“Reese,”  he cried, pulling her close to him, his hand stroking her hair. Though it was caked with ash and soot, Clarke could see that the color perfectly mimicked his. The relief was visible on his face as she clung to his shirt. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she heard, barely audible from where she stood. He rubbed circles against the girl’s back, quieting her cries before he lifted his head to look at Bellamy, who had yet to move. “Thank you.”

Bellamy simply nodded, smiling in return as he told him,  “No problem, sir, but you should probably have one of the paramedics check her out before anything else,” prior to walking away, not sparing another glance back, not even at Clarke.

She wiped at her face, trying to pull herself together before wrapping her arms around herself. Miller removed himself from her side, squeezing her arm one last time.

“Let’s get this put out,” she heard Bellamy call out to the others as she made her way over to Jasper, instructing the man and his daughter to follow her. Despite still feeling as though she might break down at any moment, she knew she couldn’t.

She had to hold it together.

And she did, mostly, until they were back on their way to the firehouse, her head pressed against the glass of the window, hand gripped tightly around the seat belt.

“Clarke? You okay?” Jasper asked a few minutes into their drive, the storm finally beginning to slow.

A tear slid slowly down her cheek, followed by another.

She hoped it was dark enough they couldn’t tell.

“Yeah,” she whispered, voice rough from her earlier shouting. “I’m okay,” although she wasn’t, not really.

A chill ran through her at the thought of Bellamy not making it out of that fire, the thought of the situation turning out any different than it had. She tried to focus on the droplets of rain pattering against the window, the sound of cars passing by outside in order to keep her mind off of it all.

Too bad it didn’t work.

She exited the rig almost immediately upon it pulling into the station, not bothering to wait for Monty to turn the ignition off as her eyes immediately began to scope the area for that familiar mess of dark hair towering above the others. Knowing Bellamy was already back and likely settled in, she started for the common room.

She watched the concrete of the garage area shift to hardwood flooring as she walked, following the sound of faint conversation. “Clarke-” Harper called from behind, likely having seen her in one of the hallways.

She entered the doorway of the room, breath catching when she locked in on Bellamy, shirtless as he sat on one of the stools in front of the counter separating the kitchen from the living space. Raven stood to his side - likely checking for any apparent injuries.

Unlike the relief she expected to rush through her at the sight of him, she was hit with an inexplicable rage flitting from head to toe, filling her until she was unable to feel anything else.

She started towards him, nearly running, her hands colliding with his chest as she shoved at him. “You asshole,” she yelled, voice shrill, uneven as the tears she’d tried to keep at bay began to fall. She shoved at him again without pause, harder this time, her voice cracking, “You fucking asshole, you could have died! You could have-”

“Clarke, hey. Hey, I’m okay,” he tried to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She wouldn’t allow it, pulling away to shove at him again, all reasonable thought gone.

“You could have died, and then what about me, huh? What about-”

“Clarke, take a walk,” Raven snapped.

Ignoring her reprimanding, Clarke continued, desperate, “What about me?”

“Griffin, take a walk, now.”

“Clarke-” Bellamy whispered, reaching for her.

Clarke backed away, shaking her head as tears continued to blur her vision. He looked at her, open, vulnerable, but all she could see was him walking into that fire, never coming back out.

She turned to go, only just now noticing Echo behind her, her expression cold.

Not wanting to waste another moment looking at her, or being in the same room as Bellamy, she practically ran for the door.

“Clarke, please-” Bellamy called as she was almost to the hall, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Come on, Griffin, let’s get you straightened out.” Murphy placed an arm over her shoulder, pushing himself away from the doorframe. She nodded weakly, not feeling up for any other conversation as he led her to one of the empty dorms on the other side of the firehouse before leaving her with a pat on the head and a joking,  “The asshole’s okay, you know.”

She knew that, of course.

It was just… she couldn’t shake the thoughts clouding her mind of what it would have been like had he not been okay, had he not made it. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to survive losing him, not in that way. It was a truth she’d come to know long beforehand - she loved him, she needed him, more than almost anything and anyone else.

Losing him would be catastrophic, in her eyes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through her hair, clothes still uncomfortably wet.

“Jesus, Clarke. Pull it together,” she muttered, unzipping her jacket so she could shrug it off, tossing it somewhere across the room before lying down in an attempt to calm her still racing mind.

Of course, it didn’t work.

Unable to sleep, even in the silence of the room, her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, light bleeding in through the blinds on the window creating shadows above. She longed to go home, to be in the comfort of her own bed. Except she couldn’t count on that happening soon, unfortunately, and she didn’t want to leave for the common room, too worried about the prospect of facing the others - of facing Bellamy.

She didn’t know what she would say to him.

Hi, sorry for freaking out on you earlier but I thought you were dead and I’m also a tad bit in love with you, by the way?

No, that wouldn’t cut it.

A light knock sounded from the other side of the door and she suppressed the urge to frustratedly groan in response, contemplating the prospect of ignoring whoever it was on the other side in hopes that they would go away. There were no sirens going off, no other noises which made her think it was an emergency. Perhaps they’d assume she had fallen asleep.

It sounded tempting until they knocked again, much more urgent this time, then again before she had the chance to do so much as even consider getting out of bed to answer it.

“Bellamy,” she gasped upon cracking open the door to see him on the other side, hair wet, clothed in his uniform from earlier.

He smiled, shy, before whispering, “Can I come in?” She opened the door enough for him to step inside, shutting it behind him despite her best judgement. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, figured we should talk about-”

“I thought you were dead,” she interrupted him, voice thick. “Bellamy, I was so- I was so scared. When you went into that building, I just- and then it exploded, and I was terrified.” Her words were jumbled, as though she couldn’t piece together any single thought. “All I could think was that you were gone, that you had left me, and that I’d never told you-” His mouth opened, face twisted in confusion as she covered her mouth, stopping herself before looking away, not strong enough to face him. Tears she had tried so hard to keep at bay began to fall, steadily trailing down her face as she shook despite her best efforts.

She couldn’t tell him, couldn’t be selfish - that wasn’t her.

He was happy, and even if it was with someone else, that was all she had ever wanted, really. Even if it meant she would be hurt in the process, she wanted him to have the happiness he had always deserved. The happiness she hadn’t been able to give him.

“Clarke…” He reached out, but she flinched away, looking back to see the hurt on his face and immediately regretting it. “I’m alive, I’m here. I’d never leave you.” Then, softer, as he reached for her again, “Not if I had a say in it.”

She let him touch her this time, blinking away tears as his hand slid down her arm to grasp her fingers in his, other hand resting on her waist. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping at her face and leaning forward to let her forehead fall against his chest. The hand that had been holding hers came up to gently caress the back of her head, rubbing comfortingly against her hair.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Clarke. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” She moved her head off of his chest, glancing up at him in confusion.

“What for?”

“A lot of things,” he paused. She felt him slowly move closer to her, her breath hitching as he gently took her fingers in his again, slowly moving them to rest on his chest - directly over his heart. It pounded unsteadily beneath her palm, and her eyes looked up in search of his, though he’d already been watching her. “Do you feel that?”

She nodded, further splaying her fingers as he began to lean forward, forehead resting against hers. Her own heart began to beat faster in response. His hand left hers, caressing the side of her face as his thumb lightly stroked jaw. “I’m alive, Clarke. I’m here.”

Feeling herself move further into him despite knowing that she shouldn’t, knowing that he had a girlfriend, that this would only complicate things further, he did the same, his nose brushing against hers so delicately she figured he thought she might break.

He wiped away a stray tear, voice rough as his thumb moved to caress the area behind her ear he knew had always been sensitive, before he admitted, simply,  “I want you.”

She sighed in response to his touch, heart lurching within her chest. Her eyes closed momentarily before opening again, mouth only a hair’s breadth away from his.

Pained, as she wiped away at the tear trailing down her cheek, “You’re with Echo.”

She watched as he swallowed, pulling her slightly closer to him before giving her an ultimatum, a choice to make in this tug of war between them.

“Not if you give me a reason not to be,” he uttered, reticent, against her lips, not daring to back away.

“Bellamy-“ Yet, neither did she, not wanting to be the one to step away. Not wanting to step away from him at all.

“I love you, Clarke. I’m-“

She froze in response, not sure she had heard him right. He loved her?

Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribcage, wanting so badly to tell him that she loved him, too, to let him show her that he loved her. And yet, the doubts in her mind wouldn’t allow her to do so.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Bellamy,” she warned him, voice dangerously close to breaking as she swallowed past the lump in her throat. He shook his head, eyes soft, wanting, as he looked at her.

“I haven’t said anything I didn’t mean, and I don’t intend on it, either.”

Growing frustrated, she pulled away, albeit only slightly. They were still close enough for their noses to be brushing, for her to be able to count the freckles adorning his face, to distinguish the colors in his eyes. “Bellamy, you’re the one who ended things with us months ago, you’re the one who-”

“And I’ve regretted it every day since,” he nearly shouted, scrubbing a hand down his face in irritation. Quiet, he repeated, “Every day, Clarke.”

Perhaps she shouldn’t, perhaps she should make him explain himself more, but… she believed him, and in feeling those three words on the tip of her own tongue, heat rushing through her, she pulled him closer for the first time.

“Tell me.”

Without hesitation, words gentle, “I’m in love with you,” hardly louder than a whisper yet nearly strong enough to bring her to her knees. “I’m so in love with you, Clarke, I-”

She tilted her head, lips pressing against his as one hand tangled into the curls at the back of his head, the other sliding further up his chest to wrap around his neck. He froze momentarily, long enough to make her worry, before using the hand cupping her jaw to tilt her head. He kissed her deeply, without worry despite all of the things they should be considering otherwise.

None of that mattered now.

The hand on her waist ventured around to splay against the small of her back, their bodies flush against one another from the chest down. The feeling was nearly enough to steal the breath away from her lungs, and she wished for the clothes acting as barriers between them to be rid of.

She was the first to pull away, his hair a mess, cheeks flushed as she wordlessly reached down to grasp at his belt buckle, looking up to meet his eyes in question. He merely nodded, and she smiled, maintaining eye contact as she slipped his belt from its loops, letting it fall to the floor with the sharp sound of metal against hardwood. He untucked his shirt, allowing her to reach under the hem of it, her fingernails grazing the skin of his back lightly as he mouthed at her cheek before pushing the material up halfway.

He covered her hands with his, pulling it up and over his head.

She had missed this, missed him.

She leaned up to kiss him chastely, immediately missing the feel of his lips on hers as she pulled back to let him remove her shirt and bra, watching as they fell to the floor, too.

Quiet for a moment, she watched as he took her in, gaze lingering momentarily on her chest before stroking a hand gently, lovingly even, down the side of her face.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, shaking his head in disbelief.

Then, overcome with emotion, her words breaking free from their confines as if unable to be withheld any longer, “I love you, Bellamy.“ She paused, letting the words settle as she pulled his face closers to hers. “I love you so much,” a gasp, before they met again with overwhelming fervor, now skin on skin.

Her hand wound itself into his hair as their lips moved against one another, his hand sliding down her back to squeeze gently at her ass, her thigh before swiftly picking her up and depositing her gently on the bed behind them. He began to trail his way down her body, his touch enough to give her chills.

“I love you,” he murmured, a kiss against her collarbone, her breast, causing her to gasp as his hand squeezed hers.

Reaching for the zipper on her pants, he mouthed at the skin above her belly button before looking up at her for permission. She nodded, lifting up enough so that he could pull them down, leaving her clad only in her underwear before she returned the favor.

The first time they’d done this, her first time in general, she’d been nervous - scared, even. But he’d been so loving, caring that the fear she’d felt eventually gave way to comfort, to a pleasure she hadn’t previously known.

It was different now, looking at him, fear nowhere to be found.

She wanted him, only him, unable to bring herself to care about any of the consequences, any other problems they needed to work through.

“Bellamy,” she panted as he began kiss up the inside of her thigh, moving her underwear aside to swipe his fingers against where she wanted him most, but knowing the pressure was only enough to tease her. He continued to do so until she was gasping, begging him for more, and he obliged, curling first one, then two fingers inside her. He thrust them in and out of her until she was right on the edge, removing them in order to pull her underwear down.

Once the garment had been pulled off, leaving her skin to prickle under his gaze despite the many times he’d seen her completely bare before, he settled his head between her thighs, but didn’t get far before she gasped, “No,” pushing him away slightly.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, voice rough. “If you need me to-”

“No,” she shook her head, using the hand she had buried in his hair to pull him to eye level, caressing his face with the other. “No, I just- I want you.”

His eyes softened at her words, full of love, admiration enough to bring tears to her own. Swallowing, he nodded before leaning in to kiss her again, bruising, as one hand brushed her hair away from her face, touch so light it was barely there. “You have me,” he murmured against her lips as he pulled away, causing her heart to lurch within her chest. With him pressed flush against her, she briefly wondered if he could feel it, too.

He pressed a sucking kiss to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, then another as she struggled to reach down to his boxers, making him gasp as she wrapped a hand around him before attempting to push them off, only able to get them halfway down his thighs. He huffed against her skin before pulling them the rest of the way down, leaving him hard and heavy against her thigh, want surging through her.

“Bellamy, please,” she breathed against him, gripping onto his back as he positioned himself at her entrance, freezing slightly.

“Shit, wait - do you have a condom? I didn’t-” He let his forehead fall against hers, and she took a moment to trace along his features, mapping his nose, his mouth as he stared at her.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, quiet.“I still have an IUD, and I haven’t been with anyone since you, so… if you haven’t been unprotected with anyone else, I-”

“No, no one else,” he shook his head, pausing again to ask, “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Repeating his earlier words, not a hint of hesitation present, “I want you.”

He relented, smiling and pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaning into kiss her for real, tongue sweeping out to find hers as he began to push into her with short, careful thrusts. She hissed at the feeling, a stretch she was no longer used to after months of them being apart, but he continued kissing her, swallowing her whimpers until he was buried fully inside of her.

She sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist to bring him closer despite how close they already were, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he pulled away, dropping his face to her shoulder.

“I’ve missed this,” she admitted, carding her fingers through her hair as he started to move, thrusts slow, deep enough to make her toes curl. “I’ve missed you,” she clarified, unsuccessfully biting back a moan as she tried to ignore the blush she knew was evident on her cheeks.

He pulled away from her neck, gently rubbing his nose against hers. “I missed you, too.”

They easily found their rhythm despite the months spent apart, frame of the bed beginning to squeak with their movements - nothing they were unfamiliar with.

Unsatisfied with the slow movements of his hips against hers - so close but not yet getting there, too impatient to wait - she rolled her hips up, pressing against him in an effort to urge him to go faster, but he wouldn’t budge. “We have time, baby,” he assured her, lips meeting hers in a slow kiss. “Just be with me, okay?”

She nodded, gasping at a particularly deep thrust as her nails dug into his shoulder, causing him to hiss. He slid a hand beneath her thigh to hook it higher around his back, changing the angle - different, yet still so good. She began to thrust upwards, meeting his hips each time as they traded chaste kisses followed by long, languid ones, swallowing the sounds made by one another.

Being close to him, in this way? It was a feeling like no other, something she wasn’t sure she would be able to describe even if she tried. It was unparalleled by anything else, what she would call her favorite feeling.

He was the only thing that mattered, all that she cared about as he intertwined their fingers, outstretching their hands to rest on the pillow beneath her head.

But despite trying to slow down the inevitable, change the angle of their thrusts repeatedly before winding each other up again, it had to end at some point.

He unhooked one of his hands from hers, reaching between them to trace tight circles against her clit. She gasped in response, her body going rigid with pleasure as she came, grasping onto him tightly when he continued to thrust into her.

Realizing what he was doing, she stroked a hand down his face, his back, encouraging him with soft presses of her lips against whatever skin she could reach. “Let go, Bell. Come inside me,” she urged, forcing him to look at her. He began to quicken the pace of his thrusts and leaned in, kissing her filthily until she felt him begin to lose rhythm, pulling away from her lips to bury his face in her neck and mouthing there.

She could feel him begin to twitch against her walls, ceasing his movements as he came with a low groan, spilling deep inside her.

“I love you.” He nuzzled against her cheek, causing her to smile, feeling… happy, complete in a way she wasn’t sure she ever had.

Running her fingers through his hair, her legs still wrapped around him as she felt her eyes begin to sting, “I love you, too.”

“Clarke?” He used his thumb to wipe away a stray tear that had broken free. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied, despite knowing he wouldn’t believe her, anyway. He raised an eyebrow in response, obviously waiting for her to tell him the truth. “I just- if you felt this way, why did you end things with me back when we were just… friends?” It was a stupid question, but one she couldn’t coax into leaving her mind.

“Clarke.”  She whimpered at the feeling of emptiness as he slowly pulled out of her before moving to lay by her side. Using his hand in hers as leverage, he pulled her to rest on top of him, her face buried against his chest as he rubbed a hand up and down her back comfortingly. “Hey, look at me.” When she did, he continued, albeit hesitantly, “I was scared.”

Clarke pulled back to meet his eyes, confused. “Of what?”

“Of you not feeling the same way about me,” he shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “And I… I freaked out, and I’m sorry.”

“So, everything you said about wanting to end things because we work together, it was…?” She trailed off, hoping he would finish.

“I mean, I was kind of worried about it, about getting so caught up in you that it would affect work. For the most part, though? It was bullshit, Clarke. I only ended things with you because I was scared, and I let it get to me without even thinking to talk to you first.”

Heart pounding in her chest, she believed him, yet couldn’t seem to force the words out. When she took too long to respond, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, not urging her to speak, but comforting her as he whispered a litany of I love you’s against her skin.

Finally, when she felt as though she could speak again,  she caught his hand, so much larger than her own, bringing it to her mouth so she could press her lips to the back of it.

She could feel herself smiling as she did so, watching as he did the same, eyes almost sparkling in the dim light of the room. “I love you, too,” she whispered before leaning down to press her lips to his, already waiting.

Kissing him was something she didn’t feel the need to think about, a second nature, as he reached into her hair, angling her head so he could deepen it.

“Wait.” She unattached her lips from his, realizing they still needed to talk despite the need to pull him closer. He tensed in response as he looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. Unsure of how to address it, she murmured, “I don’t know how to go about this, really, but… you need to tell Echo.”

He took a deep breath, looking resigned. “I will.”  Then, as if worried she didn’t believe him, “I promise.”

“I don’t- I don’t want to hide this, not like we did before.”

He paused the movement of his hand on her back, reaching up to push back a tendril of hair that had fallen into her face. Tentatively, he asked, “This isn’t like that, though, right?”

Feeling slightly breathless in response to his words, the look of hope on his face, “No.” She smiled in response to the look on his face, soft and full of happiness, love. “It’s not. But… maybe we should keep things quiet until you talk to Echo, at least. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, rolling her underneath him, one hand tenderly stroking her side. “But once I do, we’re together, right?”

“Yeah.” She leaned up to kiss him, short but deep. “We’re together.”

 She only realized how ignorant it was of her to believe him when she overheard him talking to Echo, having stumbled upon them in the common room as she was on her way out.

“I know,” she’d heard her voice as she was walking down the hallway, stopping to listen despite the wiser part of her that told her not to. She thought Echo had left earlier, having to get back to work herself, but apparently she’d been mistaken. It wasn’t until she heard, “I saw the two of you,” her voice cold, that Clarke suddenly found herself growing nervous.

She should have left, should have ignored the fact that she’d ever heard anything. She certainly shouldn’t have leaned against the wall, settling in to listen.

“How-”

“I opened the door looking for you and found you with her, but apparently you’d been too busy to notice,” she told him, tone short. “I didn’t see the sense in interrupting. You’d clearly already made your choice.”

“Echo, you have to understand,” his words took on a hint of pleading, and Clarke swallowed in response, waiting to hear what he had to say next. “Clarke… she means so much to me, she’s- I love her.” Her heart leapt within the confines of her chest at his words despite already having been told those words by him before. Hearing him say it to someone else, admit it without knowing she was present, was entirely different. “I’m in love with her,” he clarified, a moment’s pause before, desperately, “but I need you to know, that you and me? This-”

She should have stayed to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say, but she couldn’t find it in her to do so, fearing for the worst.

What if he hadn’t meant what he said about wanting to be with her, after all?

She blinked back the tears in her eyes without abandon, a sense of dread slowly enveloping her as she walked away, not allowing herself to hear anything more.

She wasn’t sure she could have handled it.

There was a text from him when she got home, a short, Can I come over?

Stubbornly, she texted back, It’s been a long day and we have work tomorrow. Probably not the best idea. Then, hoping he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong, I love you.

I love you too, he’d replied. Sleep tight.

He pulled her into an empty room upon seeing her the following morning, hand coming to cup her face as his lips slanted over hers before she could say or do anything else.

“Hey.” He smiled, his hands came to wrap around her waist, forehead leaning against hers.

She sighed, smiling despite herself. “Hey.”

“So,” he started. “I know I finish work late tomorrow, but I was thinking maybe we could go do something? I remember you telling me something about-”

“Oh.” He frowned at her response, obviously not what was expecting, and she stroked a hand down his arm. “I can’t tomorrow. My mom is off, she wanted us to have dinner or something. You know how she is,” she lied.  Leaning up to kiss him chastely, she told him, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. We can always figure something else out, right?”

“Of course,” she assured him, despite not being sure of it herself. “Now, I’d love to stay here with you all day, but some of us have work to do.”

“We need to talk, actually. Sometime today.” Her stomach churned at the thought of it, but she merely leaned further into his touch. “I talked to Echo last night, I thought you should-”

“Yeah, we can. Just find me sometime later?”

She left with a kiss to his cheek, her skin burning where his fingers grazed against it.

The rest of the day went mostly similar, Bellamy constantly trying to get her alone - even kissing the top of her head once with the others around, although none of them had been paying attention - while she tried avoiding him in return.

It was immature, really, how she was acting. She should have asked him about it, about whether he had really ended things with Echo, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to.

Of course, she knew the reason; she was afraid of what he would say.

“Clarke.” She turned upon hearing Bellamy call her name, Monty giving her a raised eyebrow in response. “Can we talk?”

“Actually, I-” She started, trying to come up with an excuse. Upon seeing the hurt look on his face, though, she relented. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’ll let you… talk about whatever it is you need to. Later, guys,” Monty bid as he walked in the other direction.

Bellamy stepped forward, grasping her hand in his to lead her to one of the empty dorms down the hall. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, she was nervous, knowing he’d realized she was ignoring him. Or, maybe, with a shot of luck, he hadn’t.

“Are we okay?” He asked upon closing the door, leaning back against it. “And before you lie and say that we are, I know you’ve been avoiding me, Clarke. I just don’t understand why.” His words were feeble, as if he were nervous himself, unsure of what to say. Perhaps the smallest of all were his next words, quiet, “Do you not want this?”

It was silent as she tried to figure out what to say in response, avoiding his eyes.

She swallowed.

“No- No, I do.” She took his hand in hers, urging him to look up at her. “I’m sorry,” her voice cracked. “But if it’s not me you want to be with, I need you to tell me.”

He reared his head back slightly, confused, as his grip on her hand tightened.

“What?” She blinked away tears in response, not looking at him. “Of course it’s you that I want, Clarke, I love you,” he whispered. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s something you’re upset about, it’s not stupid. You can tell me,” he encouraged, and somehow, looking at him, it made her feel the need to.

“I heard you talking to Echo last night, on my way out. And I heard,” she stumbled over her words slightly, taking a moment to gather herself before continuing any further. “I heard you tell her you love me.”

“I do,” he confirmed. “Is that-”

“But then I heard you start to talk about your relationship with her, and it sounded like- like you might have wanted to stay with her.”

“Clarke , no.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close as her head came to rest on his shoulder, breathing in his scent as she tried to calm herself. “I was trying to tell her that I hadn’t meant to hurt her, that it wasn’t something I had planned on doing.”

She should have known, shouldn’t have assumed the worst. He stepped away from her, enough that he could reach her face, wipe away any stray tears. “I love you, Clarke. No one else.”

“I love you, too,” she told him as he began to lean down, her leaning up to meet him halfway. Their lips moved hastily against one another as her hand carded into his hair, yet somehow passionate nonetheless. She smiled into it, feeling him do the same, and before long, they pulled apart.

Murmured against her lips, “I’m sorry you overheard that.”

“I’m sorry I avoided you all day,” she replied in the same fashion, pulling him in for another kiss, this time much shorter, so he could ask, grinning, “So does this mean we’re together now?”

“Only if you promise not to go running into any fires you know you shouldn’t.” Her heart felt as though it could grow multiple sizes with all of the love she felt for him.

“I’ll try my best.” Then, murmured against her neck, “Are you really having dinner with your mom later?”

“No, I’m having dinner with you,” she laughed, shaking her head as she pulled him up for another kiss.

He’d come over to her apartment later that night, kissing her deeply as soon as the door opened, awfully reminiscent of all of the other times he’d done so in the past. This time, though, it was different. They weren’t friends with benefits, nor were they even unsure of what they were. They were actually, truly together.

And she realized, without fail, as he began to undress her, kissing his way down her body, if someone were to ask her, “One word for him?”

She’d only be able to point at him, her best friend - her person, and tell them, undoubtedly, “Lifeline.”